


denial

by transsalfisher



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, also i’m sorry if theres lots of typos, do the daughters have names???, my keyboard is having a stroke, what do i even tag them as??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 12:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14521053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transsalfisher/pseuds/transsalfisher
Summary: “But do you really expect me to just let go that easily?” Viola responds. “Gascoigne, you are my husband! You are their father! Regardless of if I have hope for you or not, I’m not going to be able to let go as if this was nothing!”“Viola, do not do this to yourself!” Gascoigne says, his voice starting to waver. “For God’s Sake, do not do this to yourself!”





	denial

Closing the door quietly, he comes in stinking of blood and feeling like the worst man alive. He locks the door and checks to make sure the incense outside is still burning. He sighs and slowly starts to walk towards his room. He stops by to peek at his daughters, both of them sleeping soundly. 

He continues on towards the back of the house and slowly opens the bedroom door. His wife stirs in bed, still dressed, lamp still on. He isn’t surprised. That’s typically how he finds her after disappearing for days at a time. 

“Gascoigne,” she murmurs, sitting up in bed. “You’re home.”

“I am,” he whispers. “‘M sorry I was gone for so long I… I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, I know.” She says quietly.

She pushes herself off the edge of the bed and stretches. She walks over to a pitcher of water, carefully pouring it into a bowl. She dips a rag into it then wrings it out, nodding for her husband to sit in the chair beside the table.

He shuffles over to it, hanging his hat by the door before he does. He sits down and slowly starts to pull off his boots as Viola walks over to him. She sets the rag down for a moment and pulls his scarf off slowly, then helps him out of his coat and and gloves. 

Her eyes look over his arms, scratches and bloody bites all over his arms. She can’t tell which have come from other beasts and which are self inflicted. Nonetheless, she takes the rag and slowly starts to clean them up.

“I saw you,” she says as she wipes the blood from his wounds. “Do you remember it at all?”

Gascoigne blinks, looking over at her and frowning.

“No,” he says. “When?”

“A week or so ago,” she answers. “I went out looking for you. You didn’t seem to know who I was until I played the music box for you. Even then, I had just barely calmed you down.”

“I didn’t…” Gascoigne swallows, pushed hair from his face. He turns to her, taking one of her hands. “You’re not hurt are you?”

“Heavens, no.” She says with a wave of her hand. “I know not to get that close to you until you’ve settled.”

“Good,” he breathes, looking down at his feet. “Good.”

They sit in silence as Viola finishes cleaning his arm. She unbuttons his shirt, looking for anything needing to be cleaned there, then walks back over to the bowl of water.

“You were very sweet once you calmed down,” she says.

“Was I?” Gascoigne asks, his voice void of emotion.

“Mmhmm.” Viola hums in response. “You sat there and let me bandage you up, you were very interested to try and find out what I had in my pockets, even started to whine when I had to leave.”

Viola walks back over and starts to clean a particularly nasty wound on his chest. Gascoigne winces some, but allows her to continue. He’s used to it by this point. 

Once she’s tended to his wounds, she starts to wipe to blood from his face. She slowly unwraps the bandages around his eyes, looking down into them. They look tired, much more so than the last time this happened. She pulls some gauze out from their bedside table and kneels next to him, starting to wrap his arms.

“Stand up,” she says softly. “I need to get that spot on your chest, too.”

Gascoigne stands with a grunt and Viola gently pulls off his shirt. He lifts his arms as she starts to wrap the gauze around him until it’s everything is bandaged. Gascoigne gathers his clothes then sits on the bed, face in his hands. Viola cleans up the rag in the bowl, looking at the blood that seeps into the water.

“I’m getting concerned,” Viola finally says. She can’t take the silence anymore. “You’re going to forget about us permanently sooner or later. How will I tell the girls? They… They still don’t even know the full extent of it all.”

Gascoigne looks up slowly. He registers what she says but it sounds like he’s underwater. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. There’s nothing he can say. She’s not wrong. He wishes she was.

“I don’t know, Viola.” He says lowly.

She stares at him from across the room, blonde hair falling from her loose bun into her face. Her eyes are just as tired as his and Gascoigne can’t help but notice that she looks much older than a woman of her age should. 

“There’s nothin’ that can be done at this point,” he says. “What little could be done has been done and… We just have t’savor how much time we may or may not have left.”

“Gascoigne, there has to be something. There has to be. It’s something we haven’t discovered, it’s something that nobody has discovered. Something that can help all of and end this mess.”

Gascoigne stares at her and with each passing second he can feel his heart break into millions and billions of pieces. He almost doesn’t believe that it’s gotten to this point of desperation. Gascoigne can’t remember how long this has been going on for. He can’t place the moment in time where he felt what little hope he had left die out. He applauds Viola for having that small ember of hope left, but she’s always been more optimistic than he has.

“Viola, that’s not goin’ to happen.” He says quietly. “We both know that’s not goin’ to happen.”

She stares at him, looking as if he had just slapped her in the face. He wants her to have hope, but there’s none left. For her and the children, maybe, but not for Gascoigne. He’s accepted it. He thinks he has, anyways.

“No,” she says softly, her voice starting to waver. “Gascoigne, _please_. If not for my sake, for the girls.”

“What can be done, Viola?” He asks, sitting up straighter. “There’s nothin’ left, we need t’come to terms with it.”

“We can keep you here, we won’t send you out on the hunt anymore. You’ll forget all about it.” She says, her voice beginning to sound almost frantic. “And surely there’s some sort of sedative or _something_ that can keep you under control if you start to turn. We… We can fix this, we can fix you.”

Gascoigne stands, running a hand through his hair and staring at his petite wife. He really never expected his last few months to be like this. He never wanted his last few months to be like this. 

“Let it _go_ , Viola.” Gascoigne says, his voice taking on a harsher tone. “What’s goin’ to happen is goin’ to happen. You’re a brilliant woman, I know you can keep the girls safe. You can get away from here, go to a city that isn’t as plagued as this one. Find somewhere safer and leave me behind here, I don’t want the three of you to have to suffer like this.”

Viola stares at him in silence for a moment. He can see that the poor woman is exhausted, physically and emotionally. The pain he feels when he sees her like this, so worn out and desperate, is indescribable. He’ll never say it out loud, but he wishes he never met her. He wishes he never fell in love with, wishes he never started a family with her. He wishes he had never come to Yharnam to begin with. Not for his sake, but for the sake of her sanity and emotional stability. She’s tied down to him now and he wishes she wasn’t if only to spare her from this pain.

“I can’t just let his go, Gascoigne,” Viola finally says, frustration seeping into her tone. “I… Gascoigne, we have a family!”

“Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I don’t realize what this is doing to the three of you? Every time I leave, I wonder if it’s goin’ t’be the last time I see any of you! Every time I kiss the girls goodnight I wonder if it’s goin’ t’be the last time! Every time I come home to you I wonder if it’s goin’ t’be the last time I come home! Viola, these aren’t things that I just ignore! They keep me up at night just as much as they do you!”

“But do you really expect me to just let go that easily?” Viola responds. “Gascoigne, you are my husband! You are _their_ father! Regardless of if I have hope for you or not, I’m not going to be able to let go as if this was nothing!”

“Viola, do _not_ do this to yourself!” Gascoigne says, his voice starting to waver. “For God’s Sake, do _not_ do this to yourself!”

Neither of them even realize they’re yelling until the door creeps open and a sleepy mop of blonde curls steps into the doorway.

“Dad?” Her soft voice comes. “Are you home?”

Gascoigne swallows down the lump in his throat and walks over to his youngest. He carefully picks her up and presses a kiss to her temple as Viola turns away, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Yes, love, ‘m home.” He says quietly, brushing some hair from her eyes.

“I missed you,” she says with a sleepy smile, rubbing at her eyes.

“I missed y’too,” he smiles. His heart stings. “Come on, sweet, we can talk more tomorrow, yeah? Y’need to get to bed.”

Gascoigne totes her out of the room and back to her’s. Viola inhales shakily, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, blinking back the tears in her eyes. She can’t help but wince when she hears the door creak open and then shut. 

There’s silence and Viola can’t stand to turn around and look at him. She doesn’t know what to think and neither does he. There’s nothing to be said, nothing to be done, nothing but just accept the inevitable. 

“Viola,” he says quietly, his voice shaking. “I… We can’t keep doin’ this. We can’t keep doin’ this to each other, it’s just makin’ it harder.”

Viola nods her head and slowly turns. She looks him up and down but all she can focus on are the few tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I know,” she whispers. “I just… I don’t want it to feel like everything we’ve gone through and worked for us being thrown away.”

He nods, rubbing his face slowly. Viola wipes at her eyes then starts blowing out lamps.

“Let’s…” She sighs, walking over to her husband, taking both of his hands in hers. “Gascoigne, let's just get to bed.”

He nods and they both get ready for bed. They lay together, Gascoigne wrapping himself around her. He tucks some hair behind her ear and presses a gentle kiss to the back of it. He feels her body relax more into the mattress and he knows she’s starting to drift off.

Gascoigne stares off into the darkness, holding his small wife close to him. Despite the exhaustion he can feel clawing at the back of his mind, he knows he won’t be sleeping tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first bloodborne thing i’ve ever written please go easy on me
> 
> i’m trying my hardest


End file.
